


Tonight is all we have, forever a dream away

by brandneweyesz



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Harry, M/M, Unrequited Love, Zarry AU, kind of inner monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23282335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandneweyesz/pseuds/brandneweyesz
Summary: The driver assigned to Harry is glaring at him when he comes out of the hotel and up to the car so he can leave, Harry just rolls his eyes and flips him off as he gets in the backseat, because tonight he just can’t bother with anyone, he won’t take shit and nothing would matter anymore anyway. He is happy after so long and that’s how tonight will end.Harry is prostitute and he meets Zayn.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	Tonight is all we have, forever a dream away

**Author's Note:**

> TW : Please notice there's implied human trafficking, implied suicide, character death and mention of drugs, over dose, and physical abuse. nothing is in detail just mentioned but it's there so read only if you feel comfortable.
> 
> This is the variation of two other version of the story and I know it's not that good but if you read I hope you guys like it. Thank you so much!!
> 
> Disclaimer : I don't know or own any members of one direction.

As usual Harry was dressed up and was riding in backseat of a car that was there to take him to his 8:00 pm client. He was doing a bit better in the business now so he had special clients on requests. He huffs out a breath; feeling a bit tired with thoughts running in his mind, it makes him anxious. 

He cards his fingers through his hair and takes a deep breath, feeling the cool air on his face through the open window as he watches lights blur out on the sidewalk and the tail lights of cars blazing in the night. He knows he’d feel better when he sees him.

He opens the door when the driver drops him off at the hotel and he turns to walk inside, wordless commute like always. It was a routine for years now, as the car drops him off to his clients and he does his job as the driver then waits for the job to finish picking him up after and then dropping him off again to his shitty room.

He takes off his jacket placing it on the chair by the window after he closes the door of the room behind him. The client is usually is right on time but today it feels like he is running late so he watches the world outside from up above as he waits for him, lights twinkling like stars.

Harry doesn’t have to wait too long and he turns around just in time as the door opens after a soft knock and there comes the 8:00 pm looking as beautiful as ever. If he could, Harry would watch him forever. Harry walks back to the side of the bed waiting for him to tell him what he has to do tonight. But tonight is Harry’s night. And he is going to make the most of it no matter what. While it lasts.

He tells Harry to slowly strip off his clothes and then get on the bed. Harry does as he is told, sneaking glances at him as he takes off his clothes leaving them on the middle of the floor without a care. He then watches as his client takes his own clothes off and Harry just has to admire his fit body. He has never seen anybody this perfect and the sight makes his skin hot.

He reminds himself to breathe and savor the night.

****

Harry remembers the first time he was told of the job at 8:00 pm, that he was to pleasure a man. The first time when he got ready to leave for the job he was dreading it thinking about how it was just going to be a nasty old man requesting for him; they always did seeing he was young and pretty; and he literally shuddered at the thought.

He was now used to rich old men requesting him for the night; paying loads for the taste of him and to use him anyway they wanted. Even after been forced into doing it for years; he used to throw up after they were finished with him. He literally hurled his inside in the toilet tears prickling his eyes at feeling so used and dirty every time they touched him.

He really thought the 8:00 pm would be an old man just like it was most of the time; but his breath got lost and his heart shattered at the sight of him the very first time he saw him. He really felt he was imagining it until he heard him call to him to get undressed. He looked to be in his late twenties and handsome as hell. Harry had never seen anyone look this unreal.

The first time it was a bit harsh and fast as it always was in his work and how it was suppose to be, nothing personal at all; just someone paying for him for their pleasure. But Harry found himself not really minding it and even through the haze of the moment he so badly wanted to know him, thinking what his name would be; something maybe just as pretty as he was. And even if he was confused by what he was felt for the man as he felt butterflies in his belly and it was the first time he enjoyed when he tipped over the edge with every thrust making his toe curl, feeling shivers run down his spine.

But he couldn’t know anything about him because they were never provided with the client’s personal information and they were never suppose to ask; and even if they asked why the fuck the clients would tell them. It was strictly just business. Hell he was lucky the day he didn’t get spit on or beaten up.

That day he went home with broken heart and the feeling what he wasn’t ever suppose to feel. Not with anyone and definitely not with the client. He was empty and lost but now he just couldn’t see the point of it anymore.

That’s how it went for once a week or two and then he was his regular 8:00 pm. Harry actually shouldn’t have but he had hoped that maybe 8:00 pm would ask for him regularly, because most of the clients became regular seeing as Harry was literally kind of famous among most of the workers for his looks and his ability to please the clients the way they demanded. Harry really wanted to see him again.

And so Harry started to look forward to his meetings; that was the only tiny positive bit of the whole situation. The only time he could let himself letting go and feel for once. He never liked the work he did and he was absolutely disgusted by it, but he couldn’t help himself from thinking about him. It was the only way he could see him.

Harry knew it was his job but that didn’t make him stop from feeling bad for himself. He never liked how the clients would use him like an object just for their own pleasure and satisfaction. He would think if he was only worth this, and it used to hurt him too much when the clients would be too rough with him, both physically and mentally.

All this hurt and darkness in which he was, it all was weighing him down and he was falling even deeper, and he wasn’t able to carry on and with the way his life turned out and the pills and abuse he wasn’t even living. He wasn’t going anywhere and there was no point to go on. And he didn’t even want to anymore, he was tired of it all and wanted it all to just go away somehow as he would cry his heart out in loneliness.

So after the first times he’d just made himself disconnected whenever he was with clients to just get it over with. So that he was just there throughout the sex, doing things he had to do, just a body; not letting them have a fraction of his soul or his heart. He disconnected himself as much as he can; as close to be dead as possible.

But Harry was starting to enjoy his time that he got to spend with him, even though he would have loved to be fucked and be satisfied and be fucking _happy_ to satisfy the 8:00 pm as if he actually meant someone to him.

Harry didn’t know what love was, because he has never known, never felt it in any form since he was young. And People don’t just go around throwing love in his line of work. So there was no way of knowing if what he felt for one of his client - the handsome man with doe eyes - was love, but his heart did something whenever he thought about him; when he thought of his long lashes, those honey coloured eyes, so he concluded it pretty much to be love.

Ever since he became teenager he was forced into this shit-hole; he was fiercer at first when they brought him in; denying the things he was forced to do and not giving in, fighting for himself. he tried to run away many times and he even managed to escape once only to be found by one of the handlers working for his boss. To have get more abused and tortured to pull up an act like that by the creepy bulky man they kept around. Beaten up and thrown to confine. After the whole running away thing they kept guard on him, watching him carefully just to not lose an asset and lose in business.

So as time went he got tame, because really what was even the point of refusing it all and not going to get freedom in return even after trying so hard. He was losing himself and was so sad that he had to accept that this was his life now, no end to suffering, and really _no_ life at all. So he just went to his clients, did his job, and the cycle went on over again.

Harry found himself thinking about him after those few nights with him; when other clients fucked him, used him, did whatever they wanted - if they pulled his hair, pounded into him without a care, called him names; it didn’t matter his thoughts always wandered to the dark hair and the face adorned with stubble. Always thought about what he would be doing, if he’d be nice to him again just like last time, would he let him kiss him this time or - and he’d then come at just the thought of it behind his closed eyes at last.

So the 8:00 pm became everyday from twice a month eventually, and he couldn’t ignore the way his heart would beat a little faster just at the thought of seeing him. He had to be dressed well in suit and all when he started getting demands for special time by his clients in better hotels other than dingy old motels, but he never did once looked forward to actually dressing up; why the fuck he’d want to do that for. But just the thought of going to see the 8:00 pm was enough for him to make himself a bit peppy and he started to clean up nicely for him.

After been doing what Harry did for living for days on end, he never even thought of his own pleasure or touching himself, but he couldn’t help himself as he found himself falling deeper for the handsome bloke, and he couldn’t help but touch himself when he gets to the shower and he couldn’t keep his mind off how good he felt and how he fucked him slow and rather carefully all these past months. Jerking himself off breathlessly under a stream of water; nearly knocking his forehead and fist against the wall of his tiny washroom as he came, his whole body shakes at the image of those damn eyes and the long fingers fucking him tenderly.

But just as Harry realized he had started to think of meeting him like he was going to meet his boyfriend or a lover and not like some prostitute that he was, had his stomach churn in a bad way; nauseating feeling hitting him every time he thought of what he was not and never will be, not to him or anyone; had him anxious and tensed, overcoming with sadness, and despair.

Now all he thought about all the possibilities he could have had. He is exhausted and tired of all this and his head swimming with emotions he thought he could never feel. He can’t stop thinking about him, about how nice it would have been if he would have been his first time and not some forty something bastard pushing him down roughly and having his way with him handcuffed and being spanked without his consent just at fifteen.

Harry wanted to know so much about him, like why he didn’t force himself like others did, why was he there, why he keeps coming back everyday now, like what was his favourite colour, what he does for a living, why they never talk, why he never acted like he was fucking a sex worker, why Harry never felt wrong with him, why he felt like he cared for Harry, did he care? Why he never kisses him like others did, even when Harry want him to, what his name is, if he had someone waiting for him at home and Harry felt like he couldn’t breathe. Like something choking behind his throat, burning it from inside with all these questions on his mind.

 _Home._ Harry used to think about it a lot, when he would ride in the car to and from job, sitting in the back seat looking out at people on streets, couples walking hand in hand; cuddling into each other in the cool breeze of the night as they strolled around, people talking and eating out with friends and families, parents with babies and kids, feeling tears in corner of his eyes with the loss of the chance at having a family and being somebody’s one and only. 

Coming home to your loved ones after a long day, embracing them, feeling love and care, but harry wouldn’t know how it feels to be in a proper home, eating home cooked meals, the smell of familiarity: the familiarity that’s welcomed and needed, and what it felt like. And all these things he found himself wanting with the 8:00 pm and he thought he’s gone properly crazy now as he falls asleep crying; every interaction with him sparking something in him and burning him down with the aching feeling that he could never have this.

If only Harry had a normal life with a normal job, and had this beautiful creature with dark hair and caring eyes to come home to at the end of the day; to come home to the _love_ of his life. _If_ _only_.

Harry’s heart ached with how bad he wants to have this and feel it, that he finds himself slipping into darkness more than before, the more time he shares with this guy, who has swept him off his feet, taking all the control over him, but Harry gladly gave him it.

His mind keeps playing thoughts and the things he could never have over and over in his head, it had been months and there was nowhere to go. It’d be like this forever; or until he keeps coming back. Harry is no one to him and he could stop coming eventually but Harry would be stuck doing this till his last breath. There’s no way he could be enough, and nothing great is going to be come out at the end. He doesn’t want to do this; he never wanted to do this. Harry is not able to go on anymore not with the way he had fallen for that guy and how much he wants him, and after every meeting with him it breaks him down a little bit more every time.

He has to do something, he’d never had control of his life or over his body ever, but this all has been wearing him down. He had known this for while now that it’s just a matter of time. _Time._ The time he must use wisely. 

***

Harry smiles up to him as he walks over the bed after leaving a trail of clothes behind, harry is definitely sad with thoughts clouding his mind but he knows he will better when _he_ will touch him finally, so Harry sits down on the bed slowly watching him as he walks over where Harry is.

Harry’s eyes rakes over his toned body, he never had a time to admire him but tonight he is going to take his time to remember it all. He feels slightly sweating anticipating his next moves and the way he’d take him, he shudders at the thought of how he wanted to make tonight a bit special so he didn’t take any appointments today, he pleaded and pleaded to his boss to let him off earlier today because how he wasn’t feeling well, he nearly begged him that he’d make it up to him with more clients over next weeks. He giggles at the memory of how he tricked him when he fully knows it wasn’t going to happen after tonight.

He takes a heavy breath imaging how it’d feel to feel his body and to run his hands over his tattoo on the warm skin, oh yeah he is going to do all this, no matter what. How it’d feel to take him in after not having sex for whole day, tonight is just them, Harry is giving himself to only him today.

“Sorry I was kind of stuck in traffic.” Harry’s eyes widens at the sound of what he said. He gulps trying to believe that he is truly hearing him saying it. He, a client is saying sorry to Harry; a prostitue; for being late, the time that he _paid_ for to have Harry there. Harry is equally freaking out and thanking any god that’s above, because he fucking _talked_ to him, he is saying _sorry and_ Harry wants to weep with emotions.

Harry tries to control himself from the sweet shock as he looks up.

“It’s fine.” Harry stutters out trying to be calm, before they get on with it as he gets in position.

As always it is with him, he opens Harry slowly with his long fingers, one by one, crooking and twisting them which leave Harry panting breathless. And he then fucks Harry earnestly and carefully gripping his waist tightly with each rhythm of his body, Harry’s hands twisting in the sheets below him with the pleasure.

Harry feels it deep in his bones, in his bloodstream. A feeling so powerful that it feels like he is floating, leaving behind everything; the pain and hurt. He has done this countless time every day, so much that he never let himself feel the pleasure for any of them but it always feels different with him anyway. He knows his place but wanting this with him and realizing that he’s never going to have it; imagining not having forever; doesn’t hurt Harry any less.

He snaps out of his undying thoughts as he moans when he feels him stroke the bundle of nerves when he changes the angle, and he decides to be present and have this at last, without worrying over _what ifs_ and _could_ _have_ _been_ for once.

He writhes under him as he feels pleasure coursing through him, and he couldn’t shake off the love he has for him even if he knows he wouldn’t love Harry back. But Harry can definitely confess it right now but he knows he shouldn’t so he keeps his mouth shut and gasps as he feels him finish inside him. And that has him releasing himself onto sheets then, his whole body shuddering making mess.

He slumps down on bed feeling his body going numb and relaxed, breathing hard in the silence of the room. He hears movement behind himself and he comes to realization that they will leave now as their time is up.

But Harry doesn’t want to let him go yet, he wanted to make the most of tonight before all ends so he found himself sitting up, “hey, can you ple- please stay for a bit?” he asks deciding to be brave, doubtfully toying with his fingers as he looks down to his lap. He can’t help but curse himself ‘ _way to fuck it up you stupid’._

Harry is not sure what he is doing by requesting a client to stay but he has to take his chance, he has been so good to Harry, not ever forcing Harry or really demanding like other psycho clients, so he wonders if he would grant him this.

When Harry doesn’t hear anything he looks up with uncertainty, he suddenly is overcome with emotions, all the things and his decisions weighting him down. He sees _him_ shocked and watching him carefully like studying him with wide eyes.

“Yeah? What? Are you okay?”

Harry hears him ask gently, Harry is not sure what he wants to say and he definitely is not okay. “I – I want to feel you again, I will ride you, you don’t have to pay extra?” he rushes it out in panic.

He knows it is fucking dumb to ask for this but it is the only way he could have him stay for longer, he is his client not a friend who will stay with him willingly chatting up, so there is no other way than this. Fuck his boss and his driver and everyone who’ll give him shit for taking extra time and not being back on time. It’s his night and he has to live it too.

He wanted to feel this one last time before he goes and surprisingly against Harry’s doubts he tentatively says okay and Harry feels his heart beat little faster. It must have been his lucky day seeing as all the cards are falling in place. The air between them feels a little strange and It’s a little awkward for sure, given they are doing it after they know they’re done for today and this is extra.

Harry is unable to believe that the client, a man who he is in love with just said yes to what he wanted. He doesn’t know how this happened or why he said yes and he knows it was bad of him to ask for this but he can’t bring himself to question it.

Harry watches as he makes his way again to the bed and lies down as he nods up to Harry to carry on. Harry feels his hands shaking and he feels his palms get sweaty as he walks on his knee up to straddle him. Harry lets out a shaky breath as he sits on his lower abdomen.

Harry is pretty much open from before so he reckons it’ll be okay to just start and if he feels a bit more stretched and feel it till later it’d be incredible too. So he shifts lower and grinds on him slowly, he’s granted a small moan as he moves his hips rolling up and down on him, Harry looks up to him and his cheeks tints at the sight of him with his eyes shut and parted lips.

Harry then hesitantly guides his fingertips on the skin he wanted to touch so many times, skimming over the ink scattered there. He positions himself over him to sink down when he feels his fingers dig on his thighs. As he takes him in to the hilt, his lips part as his breath hitches from feeling so full. He starts to roll his hips and set the rhythm, his eyes closed in passion and his head tilt back, a moan leaving involuntary from his mouth.

Harry starts riding him intently after a while, he wants to make it good for them. He watches over to look at him when he feels him thrust upward then. He looks deep in his eyes trying to make sense of it all and his own eyes wells up as he is overwhelmed with his emotions again, he wants to say so much to him but he can’t seem to. He wants to tell him how much he loves him but what's worse is that he can’t do that.

Harry knows it shouldn’t have happened, that no one cares for people like them, that nobody like him gets to have their happy ending.

So Harry shows him how he feels by the way he moves with all the love he has been feeling for him and with him, showing it through his actions and hoping he would understand it at least, if not feel for him. Because it is the only way Harry knows how to show love and how it felt; the irony of it, he himself figured it out doing all this with him.

Harry never knew he could be able to feel like this one day, seeing as what he does for living, but he really does feel it now and it’s the most human someone has ever treated him, he felt loved and cared for with him despite him being just the client.

Harry surges forward then arching his back as he starts to move a little faster with his hands on his chest for support. They never talk during but he couldn’t control himself today, this was his night; and as he feels these powerful emotions overflowing through him when he touches him.

He keeps touching his face feeling his jaw his fingers gliding over and patting skin under his eye, his lip. Harry hears him grunts from below him as he grinds down on him, whimpers slipping past his lips. He reaches over to slip his fingers run through his hair. His own hair was sticking up on his forehead from the sweat.

Harry wanted to kiss him so bad, he doesn’t know why but he is the only one who never forced a kiss on him, he wanted him to kiss him too, wanted to know his name, wanted him to know so much – it keeps looping on his mind as the flood of emotion washes over him, “What’s your name? please tell me…” he asks in a frenzy.

His hips stills for a fraction when he feels him stop thrusting up after hearing his question. And Harry wishes he could take his words back feeling that he crossed a line somehow maybe. And just then he hears his beautiful voice answer him.

“Zayn.”

Harry hears him answer, surprising him yet again. He nods at him as he watches his hooded eyes looking up at him. ‘ _Zayn’_ what a sweet name, he thinks to himself.

 _“Zayn,_ ” Harry utters loudly then, tasting out it on his tongue.

Harry was beside himself from all the joy he was feeling, with how everything was actually happening the way he wanted before he goes through his plan up to the end. It was the best he has ever felt. Being with Zayn is the least bit of heaven he’d reached or touched. That he feels despite of all his sin. But was he to blame.

So Harry decides to be selfish and ask for one last thing and see if he could have it. He wanted to taste Zayn, he wanted to kiss him and know what it feels like to be kiss willingly.

Harry’s breath falters as he feels himself almost on the edge. “Zayn, please p-please I want to k-kiss yo-you, please, can I kiss you? Please I-” He pleads, his voice cracking at the end as he moves again.

A sound of content leaves Harry’s lips as he feels Zayn pull him down closer, Harry looks at his lips and then over at his caring eyes and then leans forward and touches his lips to Zayn’s, he feels himself melt away and the world fading away as then a hot tear rolls down his face. He kisses him again and again and then again, once.

Their kiss breaks on a gasp, “You okay?” Zayn asks Harry as he reaches up to wipe at his tear, and his heart aches at the gesture. Harry has no idea who this person is, who treats a prostitute like this, he has no fucking idea, maybe it’s all in the heat of the moment, maybe because he saw him so open and needy tonight, maybe...

So he just nods and moves even faster for them to finish, his hips moving up and down, Zayn thrusting up into him. And in few more thrusts they come, Harry whispering Zayn’s name under his breath.

The way Zayn’s always been with him is tearing him apart and the fact that now it’s finally over, and that he has to leave now hits his as he open his eyes from his high. His throat is dry and eyes red as he moves from over Zayn. He closes his eyes to take in the reality before getting up to clean himself and get dressed.

It’ll be his greatest grief not ever knowing how it feels really to be held by the person who loves you unconditionally, when they want nothing in return, a selfless act. Not when there’s a lust blinding them but when your heart needs to be heard, and soul needs care. What a great feeling it would be to experience, to be lucky enough to get to experience it. And it saddens him the most since Zayn came along because that’s when he started to feel the need for it.

He often thought why he didn’t die before, why was he even alive, why he ever held back, when he didn’t even want to be alive, he needn’t have to. He’d almost OD’d once when he was younger and they used to keep them all under the influence, some guy beat him to death once for refusing to suck him off; not even then. Maybe god wanted him to experience at least a tiny bit of love when he met Zayn, who knows. At least that’s what Harry told himself.

So that’s what it was. Harry let himself feel the love, he let himself hurt for the last time but in a good way, in the way he wanted, to let himself be free, now that he knows how.

Because maybe Zayn would come back but he won’t.

Harry looks up breaking out of his thoughts when he hears Zayn clear his throat. “Okay so…” Zayn just points at the door with his thumb to say that he was leaving. Harry nods his head mumbling a weak yes.

His eyes well up again and he is starting to struggle to breathe, as it hits him like a train again that it’s the end of the night, and he stands up abruptly.

“Wait!!” it comes out a bit loud and needy than Harry wanted, in the silence of the room and he goes after Zayn before he could open the door.

They stand in front of each other and Harry just takes in all the features of Zayn’s face like memorizing it for later. He is just seconds away from full on sobbing by the way he can feel his throat choke up. He thinks Zayn looks little startled, like he too can’t believe whatever that’s happened tonight between them.

“Umm… ” Harry starts but he is not sure what he wants to say, if there is anything to be said, so he just reaches up to simply hold Zayn’s face; he hesitates a bit to see if Zayn will let him touch now, when he doesn’t have to. Will he push him away? Harry is sure Zayn must be thinking of him as some weirdo but he doesn’t care.

So when Zayn doesn’t swat at his hands, he grabs the sides of his jaw gently in his hands and feels his cheekbones, Harry then looks deep in his eyes watching carefully how beautiful they are. And as he realizes that Zayn is not pushing him away like he thought he would, when he slowly leans in Harry then dares to kiss him. Harry doesn’t know why Zayn is letting him do this, is it because he saw him crying before, or saw him so vulnerable, but Harry is glad and happy that Zayn is allowing him to have this.

They kiss a few times and this is how Harry always wanted to be kissed. Harry pulls away after kissing the corner of his mouth, his lips lingering there for a bit.

“Goodbye Zayn,” Harry whispers as if it’s a secret; giving him a small smile.

Today has been so surprising for him with the things they never did before, with the way it all turned out to be but now it’s time. Harry just watches Zayn then walk away and leave; with tears finally falling down his face.

The driver assigned to Harry is glaring at him when he comes out of the hotel and up to the car so he can leave, Harry just rolls his eyes and flips him off as he gets in the backseat, because tonight he just can’t bother with anyone, he won’t take shit and nothing would matter anymore anyway. He is happy after so long and that’s how tonight will end.

Of course there is no denying that he is sad knowing he will never have what he wants his life to be with Zayn, he can’t deny how his heart yearns to be with him but at least he is happy that Zayn let him have this for the last time; he talked to him and let Harry love him so Harry thinks.

Harry watches people strolling in the night outside from the car window, feeling cool breeze on his face as he rides back to his complex. It is hard but he tries to calm his mind from all the thoughts running through his head about his next step. But he shakes off the feeling and he lets himself savor the night for a little longer leaving all the worries behind as he keeps watching them.

Harry goes straight to his room when they arrive avoiding everyone like him that were kept their. He just has to get to the end of this, time to leave all the pain and hurt and the agony of feeling worthless.

He strips down, watching himself in the mirror not able to even recognize the boy that’s staring back at him with empty eyes. He closes his eyes then, his mind chanting that it has to be done as he feels his hands tremble slightly. He takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart, surer than ever before.

A bathtub would have been a great option but he doesn’t have that luxury so he takes warm shower before he lies down on his bed, empty glass of water and the open bottles left on the floor. He waits for sleep to take over, as he floats away to a wonderland, a dream he always dreams of, thinking of only one man, the only face he remembers, the only mystical golden eyes he wants to look at forever of a wonderful man with dark hair. Zayn.

He smiles as he can vividly imagine a family; his family with him. Dreaming of the things and the life they would have away from this ruthless world and toxic people as his eyes dreams of a world where pure love exists, a safe haven.

A beautiful picture in his mind of the love of his life looking as wonderful as ever, Zayn and him building their life together, growing old. Their hands intertwined, sharing sweet kisses. He knows he will finally be free as he waits drifting off to the dreams of them together being so in love and happy.

A faint smile crosses over his lips even through the tears trying to break out as he starts to feel drowsy, he struggles to breathe out “ _I love you Zay-”_ before sleep takes him away in his dream forever.

-


End file.
